i 



sum 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED 



ON THE COMMEMORATION 



AT FRYSBURG* 



MAY 19, 1825, 



by cbarxjss s, bavexs. 



PORTLAND : 

PUBLISHED BY JAMES ADAMS, J*. 



PRINTS© BY D. AND S. PAINE i 



To CHARLES S. DAVEIS, ESQ. 
SIR, 

The subscribers, as the Committee of Arrangements, in behalf of the 
town of Fryeburg, for the First Centennial Celebration of " Lovel's Fight," with 
unfeigned pleasure avail themselves of the occasion, to express to you the high 
sense they entertain of the merits of your Address, this day delivered, at their 
request, in commemoration of that event ; and to solicit the favour of a copy for 
publication . 

With sentiments of high respect, 

Your obedient Servants, 

EBENEZER FESSENDEN, Jk 
ROBERT BRADLEY, 
STEPHEN CHASE, 
JAMES OSGOOD, 
ASA CHARLES, 
JOSEPH COLBY 

Fryeburg, May 19, 1825- 



At- the historical period, which we have visited this 
peaceful spot to celebrate, it was a scene of desperate 
and mortal strife. Its solitude was pierced by one of 
the most intrepid spirits, that had been trained, by the 
severe necessity of the times, to encounter the sons of 
the forest. This wild region was then awakened by 
the war-whoop. The green earth sprung up alive with 
a dark and furious ambush ; and the glen was manned 
at once by its native garrison. The climate cast its 
vernal canopy over the serene expanse ; whose bosom 
was crimsoned with blood : and a fierce, reiterated 
firing reverberated, to the shutting down of the day, 
through this spacious and beautiful amphitheatre. 



1 



Since that period one hundred years have passed.— 
Those sounds have long since ceased. Their echoes 
have died away among those distant mountains. The 
keen suffering and intense solicitude of that season 
have subsided. The constancy of that resolute band 
of martyrs, the brave heart of its expiring leader, the 
stern agony of defence, the gathering gloom of de- 
feat, and the exhausted gratitude of deliverance, all 
these have sunk alike with the tumultuous voices, and 
mingled w ith the agitating vicissitudes, of that con- 
vulsive conflict, beneath the silent mould. 

The survivors of the slaughter themselves are 
passed away. The fires of an hundred wigwams are 
gone out. The vestiges of the remarkable tribe, whose 
residence in the vale, which forms the ground-plot of 
the present village, spread such terror throughout the 
inhabited precinct of the territory, are now no longer 
visible. Their tumuli have vanished. Their mounds 
no longer rise above the level of the soil. The pri- 
meval rights to it have been extinguished. Public 
grants have covered it. The plough-share has passed 
over it. The country has been cleared up. The 
woods are again filled with their natural music. The 
character of the scene has been softened. -Sons and 
daughters, of parents born upon this spot, have been 
laid beneath the same sod with the settlers ; arid those 
of the third and fourth generations — and even to the 
fifth, have assembled with their children, to cherish the 
remembrance of that interesting day, by the side of 
these reposing waters, at the foot of these immense 
and eternal elevations. 



5 



Such commemoration is naturally invited by the 
genius, and is not rebuked by the religion, of the place. 
It may be indulged, not only without regret, but even 
with dignity and virtue. It is grateful to the excited 
spirit, thus to repair to the living fountain of public 
gratitude, and to find it flowing with equal freshness 
in the most retired and romantic recesses of our coun- 
try. This principle of patriotic sensibility has never 
been deficient in our national republic ; nor is its 
source extinguished in New-England.— Wreaths of 
incense have yearly risen from all its altars since its 
settlement ; and the anniversary of our deliverance 
from a foreign yoke has invariably enkindled the en- 
thusiasm of a population, spreading from the temper- 
ate zone to the equator, and marching from one ocean 
to the other. 

In tracing the causes of that extraordinary feeling, 
which so universally pervades the country at the pres- 
ent moment, we are induced to observe, that we have 
arrived at a period in our history, at which we may 
proceed to reckon an antiquity of our own. The wheels 
of time begin to revolve in larger circles ; and events, 
borne in its annals, to be computed in various cycles. 
In our progress we have arrived at a point of time, at 
which a number of these circles seem to converge, as 
at one common centre. We hardly seem to live in a 
single age — but several epochs seem to be piled upon 
each other in the retrospect ; and successive aeras rise, 
in the receding tract of time, like Alps on Alps— 
to accumulate the moral, and emulate the natural, 
sublimity of the scene ! 



6 



Upwards of three centuries are completed, since 
this hemisphere was discovered by Columbus, and the 
continent coasted by Cabot. The surpassing beauty 
of this portion of the country, seen by the early voy- 
agers, at the season of their visits, set off by all the 
charms of a North-American summer, first gave it the 
delightful name of New-England. Over two hundred 
years have rolled away, since the first ineffectual plan- 
tation on this side of the Chesapeake and south of St. 
Croix w r as attempted, under high patronage, by a small 
colony from England, which set up the red cross of 
St. George at the mouth of the Kennebeck. Since 
the forefathers landed at Plymouth two hundred 
have recently elapsed ; and more than half that period 
has expired, since the first race of their descendants, 
and the second succession of emigrants to this new 
world, have fallen asleep. 

Again — the approaching jubilee of our national inde- 
pendence has been just proclaimed. Half a century 
has already been performed since the true epoch of 
the revolution. The last month our brethren in Mas- 
sachusetts attended the invigorating commemoration 
of that event, on which the first blood was shed in 
battle ; and the first blow was struck by the country. 
That condensing stroke resounded through the con- 
tinent. It was heard across the Alleghany. Another 
Lexington started into existence from the echo ; and 
a new empire spread, as it were from that point, over 
a space, then barely serving as a camp for a party of 
American hunters. 



J 



The next will witness the fiftieth anniversary of our 
national Thermopylae; — -of that eventful pass in our 
revolution, at which the first great stand was made, 
in strenuous defence of liberty ; which virtually deter- 
mined the question of independence, by putting the 
mettle of the American yeomanry to the test against 
the undaunted burst of a British Army ; and proving 
its native spirit against the tempered steel of a valour 
and discipline and martial prowess, signalized in the 
long and brilliant campaigns of Europe. 

An antiquity of two thousand years has consecrated 
the classic institution of a public solemnity, in praise 
of those, that have sacrificed their lives in fighting for 
their country ; upon the appropriate idea, that they, 
who had proved their virtue by action, by action should 
be honored. Marathon was made the monument of 
all those, who fell upon that ground ; and inspired the 
sublime apostrophe to their spirits. The remains of 
the first, that were slain in battle, were gathered after 
the war was over; and an eulogy was pronounced by 
an accomplished statesman, which no period has 
eclipsed. The model of that celebrated funeral ser- 
vice has been preserved by the faithful muse of history. 
The grandeur of Greece — the genius of Homer— the 
palminess of Athens — ancient fame and late renown 
— the honour of those, who fell, and the happiness of 
those, who survived — the past, the present and the 
future — poetry, philosophy, prophecy combined to 
lend their captivating variety to the occasion, and 
embraced the enchanting topics of that powerful 
eloquence, which electrified the country. 



8 



An evening shadow rests upon the revolution. ItaJ 
higher points are touched with a parting glory ; which 
the piety of the present age is anxious to preserve. 
Time is impressing a severe relief upon the battle of 
Bunker-Hill ; — slowly impairing the heroic remnant, 
that stood shoulder to shoulder, upon that memorable 
eminence, against the shock of arms, emblazoned by 
Agincourt and Blenheim, and more recent triumph 
upon the heights of Abraham ; — whose bold but une- 
qual masses braved the billows of war, like those 
basaltic columns, which are only broken at last by 
the irresistible and overwhelming surge of the ocean. 
On that noblest swell of earth, which the Atlantic 
sweeps, a shaft shall rise, that shall shine to future 
times with the lustre of that day, to which it is devoted ; 
and stand a pillar of light to sea and land. Among 
the consoling rays, which still linger above the horizon, 
one scarcely declining orb will reflect its splendor on 
the affecting scene. New-England will gaze with ad- 
miration upon the illustrious veteran, who comes to the 
present generation, like the canonized shade of some 
former age — reaching to the verge of chivalry — who 
embarked for these shores nearly half a century since, 
as it were to crown the discovery of this new world, by 
aiding to redeem it from that unrelenting oppression 
of the old, to which the original discoverer himself be- 
came a victim : and has now returned to these climes, 
mellowed by the westering light of liberty, to rekindle 
in the bosoms of the sons the holy flame, which glowed 
in the breasts of the fathers; and to enjoy the harvest 
liome of their common sufferings and sacrifices. 



9 

Tli 6 presence of this distinguished benefactor has 
entered into the spirit, the politics, the morals, and in- 
fused itself even into the genius and literature, of the 
United States. It has given a tone to the national 
character ; and has vindicated the moral sentiment of 
American society. It has served to exalt the union in 
the eyes of Europe ; to raise its scale of self-respect ; 
to increase its permanent power ; to fund a debt, 
which cannot be cancelled ; redeem the name of re- 
public from reproach, especially the gross imputation, 
to which it has been accustomed ; and send to the 
heart of that excellent individual a satisfaction, with 
which no other measure of expression could compare. 
He is carried through the country on the shields of 
the whole people of the confederation ; and is enjoy- 
ing perhaps mere perfectly, certainly with more puri- 
ty, than any person ever before experienced, the liv- 
ing apotheosis of a nation's gratitude. 

The present occasion may not perhaps aspire to 
excite a strong contemporaneous sensation : yet is 
it never the less sacred to the present spot. It is 
not one, that reminds lis of the scenes of the revolu- 
tion ; but it carries us back to an earlier season of 
provincial story. It bears relation to some of those 
simple incidents in the chronicles of a precarious 
period, and revives the memory of one of those tragi- 
cal events, that are treasured in the annals of tradition 
or lamented among the tales of elder times, like the 
massacre of the Greeks at Priene, of the Scotch at 
Glencoe, or of the French in Florida. The scenes of 
these events, entwined with numerous associations,* 

s 



10 



frequently connected with important consequences — 
are naturally consecrated by the attachments of future 
inhabitants. There is a charm in cherishing these 
memorials, already embalmed by your recollections, 
upon the plains of Fryeburg. The occasion is not 
destitute of interest here ; and its attraction shews, 
that it is not entirely local. 

Amid this scene of faithful and elevated sensibility, 
these fair spread glades and groves, now flushing with 
the first influence of the year, and brightened with the 
genial beams of arts and letters, in the centre of this 
thriving and thronging hive of industry and animation, 
it may be difficult for the mind to revert to the actual 
condition of this tract of territory a century ago, or 
even to fancy ourselves upon the spot, where our fore- 
fathers fought, and, in the phrase of sacred writ, played 
the man, valiantly, for their country and posterity. 
But let this congregation imagine itself withdrawn, 
as it will be, when this period returns — let the face of 
nature again be covered with the same deep forest 
growth — abstract our thoughts, as far as possible, from 
all the active associations of this advanced stage ; sup- 
pose, that for a circle drawn around us with a radius 
of fifty miles, there was not even the log-hut of the 
American woodman ; let this wilderness be re-peopled 
with the same principles of wild, but impassioned, pow- 
er and unenlightened intellect ; restore the native and 
repel the foreign population — let the wild beast again 
inhabit the jungle ; strew the couch of the savage 
with cedar, shingle the roof of his cabin with birch, 
and spread out his camp in the pleasantest part of 



11 



Pequawket ; let us shut our eyes for a brief space to 
the scene before us — and this day's pomp departing, 
each, in his own solitary spirit, contemplate the state 
of this territory, an hundred years ago. r 

It will be remembered, that so late as the com- 
mencement of the last century, the population of this 
eastern extremity was gathered in groups upon the 
sea-coast, and cautiously seated on the sides of rivers, 
with a slight and scattered connection through the 
wilderness : while its frontiers were besieged by the 
native tribes ; which issued from their interior fast- 
nesses, to beset our outposts and make incursions up- 
on our settlements. In this disposition to harrass the 
English inhabitants, they were stimulated not merely 
by a sense of injury and a thirst for vengeance, but 
by the policy of a foreign power and the influence of a 
subtle priesthood, operating with united force upon 
the spirit of superstition, as well as love of enterprise. 
Among these political missionaries, who, with alf 
their devotion to the interests of the Indians, never 
suffered themselves to forget they were sons of France, 
was the learned Jesuit Ralle at Norridgwock. The 
celebrated Count de Castine, spoken of with distinc- 
tion by Voltaire and Raynal, had figured in the service 
of his sovereign, among the flower of the French 
nobility, at the head of a regiment. This extraordin- 
ary military adventurer emigrated to America to con- 
nect himself with the tribe at Penobscot. 

Congenial, as it may be considered, to the refinement 
of a more peaceful and easy age, to extenuate the 
atrocities of Indian warfare, and visit the blame of 



12 



aggression exclusively upon our ancestors, there are 
at least some shades in their situation, liable to be 
overcharged ; and there are certain traits, which 
ought not in justice to be omitted. It will not be 
forgotten, that their position in this country had be- 
come a fact, entirely independent of their own voli- 
tion ; uncontroulable by them without evacuating it. 
Their condition was one, which prescribed its own 
relations to the predicament, in which they were plac- 
ed ; fairly affecting them with no more responsibility, 
than exists in regard to any portion of our population. 
Here were our fathers born, and their children unto 
them, and they found themselves with their families en- 
vironed by those, whom tbey had never been taught to 
regard in any other light, nor found to possess any 
other character, than savages. It will not be denied, 
that their circumstances subjected them to the hard 
necessity of self defence ; a right or rather a duty, the 
limits of which it is not always easy to define ; and 
never so difficult, as at the moment of danger ; present- 
ing a question, moreover, upon which it is easier to 
speculate in the closet, than to determine on the spot. 

Barbarous again, as Indian warfare may be in 
any case, there is no form of it, let it be noted, more 
inhuman, than that of making use of the native force, 
as auxiliary to the European. The difference is im- 
mense, between employing such a force on this con- 
tinent for offensive and defensive purposes. An invad- 
ing army, landing on these shores, brings no precious 
charge of wives and children to be exposed to the 
horrors of Indian warfare. Let it be remembered, 



13 



that the terrible precedent, of employing an Indian 
force against the peaceful security of domestic life, 
never originated with the Anglo-Americans, The 
French establishment in the neighboring province of 
Canada commenced the infernal practice ; and when 
our mother country became altered to us, and her eye 
was averted from her offspring ; and when not only 
the natural affinities between us were reversed, but 
even the common charities of our kind were convert- 
ed into furies ; these were justified as the means, which 
God and nature had put into her hands ; means, char- 
acterized by an ardent apologist for the unsophisticat- 
ed Indian, in the admirable recital of our colonial 
sufferings, as involving an indiscriminate massacre of 
all ages, sexes and conditions. The murder of the 
unfortunate Miss McCrea, and the destruction of the 
lovely village of Wyoming, were foremost among the 
cruel commentaries upon that most alienated and un- 
natural policy, of letting loose the merciless Indian 
Savages upon us — their descendants, which the gov- 
ernment of England adopted, with such inconceivable 
alacrity, from the example of France. 

The terror inspired by these sudden incursions, and 
sometimes nocturnal assaults, of the Indians, thus easily 
spirited, and often marshalled, by active and vindictive 
foreign agents ; the scenes of consternation they pro- 
duced at such spots as Deerfield and Dunstable, and 
Dover, at the previous period that has been referred 
to, were such as were never before experienced in 
any form of civilized society ; and such as no tales of 
fiction can exceed ; and no power of description will 



14 



ever be able to parallel. Persons, still living, remem- 
ber the times, when the Indians were lurking around 
the scites of our present seaports ; when our husband- 
men were obliged to go armed to their daily labour 
in the fields, and to public worship on the sabbath. 
A few scattered block-houses, formerly occupied as 
garrisons, erected to guard the objects and pledges of 
faithful affection, suddenly startled into these coverts 
upon the wild and frantic alarm of danger, still re- 
main in different parts of New-England, to attest the 
condition of that age, and awaken the curious inquiry 
of the traveller. The cruelties practiced by the sav- 
ages in these onsets, the tortures which they inflicted 
on their captives, their sufferings, dragged through the 
wilderness to Canada, sometimes in the dead of win- 
ter, where their footsteps might be tracked upon the 
snow with blood, until they were ready to lay down up- 
on its cold bed the intolerable burthen of existence, 
are delivered to us with simplicity, though not without 
sensibility, by the narratives of contemporary histori- 
ans. " As the milk white brows of the grave and 
ancient," says one of them, " had no respect shewn, 
so neither had the mournful cries of tender infants 
the least pity. Mothers were exposed to the most 
excruciating barbarities, enough to convert the most 
stoical apathy into tears of mournful sympathy and 
compassion." Amid all these lacerating causes, con- 
tinues the same sincere historian, who relates the 
occurrence we commemorate, that took place the year 
before his death, the interest of New-England lay 
bleeding ! 



It was to seek out one of the most annoying nests 
of those neighbors — to demolish the mountain aery of 
one of the most false and ferocious of these foes, and 
to put an end to the pernicious alertness, of which the 
country below had such fatal experience, that a small 
expedition set out from the vicinity of Boston, under 
the guidance of one of the most keen and determined 
provincial captains, to penetrate these highland wilds. 
It was to prevent that work of destruction, which was 
continually impending. It was to save the sleep of 
the cradle from being waked by the whoop of the sav- 
age, and the ashes of their dwellings from being slak- 
ed by the blood of their inhabitants. It was to per- 
form the sacred duty of defending those habitations 
against assault by day and surprise by night, at a less 
appalling distance from their homes. 

The Saco Indians were spread through the valley, 
that pours its streams into that river. This was their 
principal station. The first traveller, that ascended 
the White Hills, in 1612, found at their foot, about 
this distance from the sea, a town of two hundred 
families. After the treaty of Ryswick, which placed 
the French on the other side of the St. Croix, a con- 
siderable reservoir was drawn by them from all the 
tribes of Maine, and established at St. Francois. These 
served as conductors, to bring down the remoter tribes, 
like clouds charged with lightning, from the lakes ; 
This was part of their chain of communication. Here 
was their resting place ; where they found guides to 
their scouting parties. This was the point, at which 
to strike home — the height, to girdle the baleful tree. 



16 



An Indian war commenced in 1723, called the threg 
years war. In the spring of 1725, the country was 
full of rumours of great numbers of Indians coming 
down upon the frontiers ; and reports prevailed of sev- 
eral companies being about to advance against them. 
A religious solemnity was observed in the month of 
April, to invoke the protection of Providence. A gen- 
eral impression was made throughout the community 
by the well known facts, attending the marching of 
this expedition. The issue was awaited with eager 
and intense expectation : and it is a circumstance, as 
well supported, as it is capable of being by testimony ; 
for which no solution has been suggested, except that 
influence of the marvellous, still predominating among 
the soberest minds, like the visionary superstitions of 
Scotland ; that the story of the action, was actually 
current, without any sensible variation, at a consider- 
able distance from the scene, before it took place. 

On the evening of the seventh of May, old style, 1 725, 
an hundred years ago yesterday, this forlorn hope, 
diminished by a detachment left at the Ossipee, after 
having performed a toilsome march, emerged upon the 
margin of this fair sheet of water, then the favourite 
haunt of the formidable tribe, inhabiting the bend of 
the Saco. Unusual noises, in the course of the night, 
rising round their camp, if their ears did not deceive 
them, excited the vigilance of the watch, and prepar- 
ed them for the peril of the approaching day. As the 
morning sun ascended above these majestic heights, the 
figure of one of these children of the wilderness, dis- 
covered by the discharge of his musket, was discerned 



it 

upon a point. Supposed to be stationed as a decoyv 
his fancied self-devotion has been resembled to the 
Roman ; but time has thrown no certain light upon 
his posture. After the devotional service of the morn- 
ing, the solemn and united resolution was taken by the 
whole company, concerning the course, prescribed by 
duty, on that critical emergence. 6 We came out to 
meet the enemy ; we have all along prayed God we 
might find them ; we had rather trust providence with 
our lives ; yea, die for our country, than try to return 
without seeing them, if we might ; and be called cow- 
ards for our pains.' 

Being here to refresh the general recollection of the 
ensuing scene, a summary sketch, of the prominent 
incidents of that painful day, may not be deemed in- 
appropriate to the present occasion, nor unacceptable 
to those, who are now reclining undisquieted among 
those shades, where the slaughter went on, and the 
smoke of the sacrifice ascended. 

It happened, that Lovewell's march had crossed a 
carrying place, by which two parties of Indians, com- 
manded by Paugus and Wahwa, which had been scout- 
ing down the river, were returning to their residence. 
Having thus fallen upon his trail, they lurked in rear, 
watching a favourable opportunity of attack. The com- 
pany, expecting to find the enemy in front, deposited 
their packs in an open space, enclosed by a pine wood, 
to expedite their advance in the direction towards 
the point. The Indians being thus enabled to count 
their number, and ascertaining their own to be more 
than double, lay in wait, in the wood, for their return. 



IS 



At this period, Lovewell had the misfortune to receive 
a fatal wound from the Indian, whom they met with, 
and shot on his way back. On their counter-movement, 
the ambush rose, exhibiting a horrid front, and, utter- 
ing hideous yells, rushed upon them with impetuosity. 
The shock was sustained with firmness, and the assail- 
ants were repelled with spirit. The conflict at this 
crisis was furious and desperate. Many of the Indians 
w ere slain, and the advantage inclined in favour of 
Lovewell ; until the fall of that gallant leader, with 
more than a fourth of his little force, the two next in 
command being severely wounded, and the third 
slain b\ his side — the Indians endeavouring at this 
moment to surround and overwhelm them, made it 
expedient for them to retreat to the verge of the pond. 

Here a number of natural objects served to form a 
sort of partial fortification. A sand-beach, fenced by 
a range of trees along its ridge, w as protected by an 
inlet winding around the point, sometimes dividing it 
from the bank ; which was thickly covered by a low 
growth ; — and a rude breast-w ork of rocks arose at the 
west of this welcome strand, answering about equally 
the purpose of defence and annoyance. 

In this position, flanked, and at the same time enfi- 
laded, by the opposite projections, with the water at 
their back, they were penned up for slaughter, and 
exposed to a continued and destructive fire, from the 
commanding points and coverts. In this desolate con- 
dition, far from the frontiers, remote from all chance 
of relief, destitute of all resource, save in their own 
courage, there remained no alternative but to main- 



19 



tain the struggle to the last extremity. Signals were 
in vain held up for them to surrender — The superior 
officers being disabled, the youngest took command 
of the shattered force, and stirred up their courage to 
renew the engagement with the animating assurance, 
that 6 the day should yet be their own, if their spirits 
did not flag.' A single determination inspired the 
breasts of all, to die rather than to yield ! The shouts 
of the savages were answered by their manly cheers ; 
and for the space of ten hours, without succour or 
sustenance, they continued to support their steady 
resistance, with inflexible fortitude and perseverance. 
Feats of heroic courage and deeds of romantic daring 
distinguished the action. A single combat took place, 
upon personal challenge, between one stout champion 
of the party and the noted chieftain of the tribe, in 
which, after deliberately washing out their pieces, t e 
red chief fell by the surer fire of his antagonist, deliver- 
ing his own against the sun. While the Indians were 
performing a pow-wow over the departed Pequawket, 
or engaged in solemnizing the choice of a successor, 
a gallant and dexterous exploit was executed by the 
commander, in company with the same that had slain 
the sachem, in which the most prominent person in the 
ceremony was levelled by the leader. The chaplain, 
a young Cambridge graduate, greatly beloved by all 
for his excellent parts and performances, encouraged 
them equally by his exhortation and example, until he 
was mortally wounded about the middle of the after- 
noon ; from which hour he failed not to pray aloud for 
their preservation. By the blessing of providence the 



20 



faithful spirit of this indomitable handful was crown- 
ed with success. Towards evening, the shouts of the 
Indians, disconcerted and diminished by this determin- 
ed resistance, began to cease, and their fire to slacken ; 
and about sunset, the remainder retired, yielding the 
honor of the well-fought field, without availing them- 
selves of those trophies, which they never omitted to 
tear from the slain, when they were successful. Being 
thus left lone masters of the battle-ground — but in 
no condition to pursue their dubious advantage, the 
exhausted survivors, towards midnight, drew off the 
remnant of their slaughtered force, leaving their dead 
upon the shore, and obliged to abandon their dying. 

As the moon arose over the lake, they took up their 
melancholy line of march by its waning light — leaving 
among the sufferers, the second lieutenant, with a 
couple of loaded muskets, which he requested, to ena- 
able him to give them some account of the closing 
scene, if they should perchance be within hearing on 
the following day. Accordingly when they had gain- 
ed some distance on the ensuing morning, two reports 
were heard in that direction ; and afterwards a third 
in succession; after which all was silent. At about 
the same distance, probably less than two miles from 
this spot, they were compelled to part from their other 
lieutenant, with the chaplain, who perished upon this 
plain, bequeathing it the name of Frye. A favourable 
air wafted a canoe, to which one of the wounded had 
committed himself, a number of miles, until he reached 
a shelter; and from that period repose began to settle 
upon the surrounding scenery of Lovewell's Pond, un- 



21 



disturbed for a long time, except by one or two armed 
parties, which followed from New-Hampshire and 
Massachusetts, to perform the sad funeral office over 
the unburied remains of their brethren, and swell the 
the last solemn and affecting point of war, that arose 
within these woods. Traces of blood were then fresh 
upon the field ; and the names of those they piously 
covered with earth, carved upon the trees, were visi- 
ble, as late as 1784. — Contemporary narratives of the 
action have come down to our day, intermingled with 
traditions. Pilgrimages were made to the spot, w ith- 
in the memory of the living, by those who related the 
occurrences, which are thus brought down to our own 
ears, with the faithfulness of oral testimony. A gen- 
eration longer lived, than the human, the venerable 
growth of an earlier century than the last, hath also 
borne a faithful record of the action ; and the marks 
of the battle are still to be traced on their ancient, 
though falling, trunks. A not less interesting memo- 
rial of the engagement is exhibited in the subsequent 
opening and settlement of this beautiful section. — This 
was the last, and one of the most bloody battles, re- 
membered in our Indian history. It was not without 
its immediate benefit in breaking up the tribe, which 
was much diminished by it, and the survivors soon 
evacuated the country ; and joined the colony of their 
brethren at St. Francois. The nation at Norridg- 
wock was extinguished the year before ; and the 
Indians never after ventured on any general hostilities 
in this quarter; although they long continued to haunt 
the new objects, which they found rising up near their 



22 



favourite resorts, sometimes with more, and some- 
times less, peaceful visits — and the successive defeats 
of Braddock, St. Clair and Harmer, in the west, reviv- 
ed at intervals, upon a larger scale, the recollection of 
those terrible ambushes, in which the aborigines were 
ever accustomed to overwhelm the invaders of their 
retreats. From this period the country began to en- 
joy the repose, so essential to its improvement and 
prosperity. In fifty years the ministrations of religion 
were established in this place ; and for the rest of the 
monuments of that event, cast around your eyes ! 

When we reflect on the circumstances of the en- 
gagement, the deliberateness, suddenness and violence 
of the onset, it might seem surprising, that any trace 
of it should have been preserved, except among the 
Indians themselves ; and it may serve perhaps to shew 
the ruinousness of its result to them, that scarcely a 
single fact has been derived from that source. The 
survivors, belonging to Massachusetts, after enduring 
the extremest hardships, on their return, received the 
honours and rewards of the legislature ; which also 
made suitable provision for the widows and orphans. 
Some of them lived to see the light of the revolution : 
and the heroic veteran, who was entitled to the second 
honours of the fight, at the end of one half a century, 
mounted his white horse at Lexington, to give a speci- 
men of the skill he acquired in this campaign. — "W hat- 
ever measure of merit may be attributed to the action 
upon a modern philosophic estimate — whatever cause 
the angel of mercy may find, to drop an oblivious tear 
upon the record — no fastidious, nor fantastic, ethical 



23 



refinement forbids us, to breathe over the memories 
of those who perished, the strain of praise, that was 
poured in the impassioned eulogy, pronounced by the 
eloquent organ of Greece, at the height of her glory. 
i In this just defence, these victims of their own valour, 
defying the destruction that threatened, courageously 
fought and died. This fatal catastrophe to their gal- 
lant enterprise is the surest proof of their patriotic 
self-devotion — commencing in their lives, and sealed 
by their deaths. Justice accords the meed of honour 
to those, who have made this sacrifice for their coun- 
try ; although inferior in every other virtue, besides 
that of valour. This last desert effaceth all infirmity. 
Not one of them was tempted to shrink from danger 
by any private allurement ; not one was rendered less 
lavish of his life from any earthly inducement. One 
master passion swayed their souls — the ambition of 
overcoming their enemies. Regarding this as their 
duty, they marched boldly to their object, rejecting all 
secondary considerations. The uncertain good they 
had already grasped ; what their minds shewed them 
plainly must be done, they trusted their own courage 
to achieve; thinking it more glorious to die in defence 
of their cause, than to yield and live. From the shame 
of cowardice they indeed recoiled ; but presented their 
bodies, unshaken, to the shock of battle ; when in- 
sensible to fear, triumphing in hope, in the dubious 
strife they nobly fell ; and thus discharged the debt, 
that brave men owe their country !'* 

* Thucydides. Book II. 



24 



Evanescent, as such an affair may seem, through 
the long vista of a century, and almost excluded by the 
overwhelming interest of recent events, it may serve to 
mark the advance, that has been made in the career of 
social improvement within that space of time, to look 
back and reflect upon the importance attached at that 
day to a movement of no more apparent magnitude. 
Diminutive, as it may now have become in comparison, 
the security of a large extent of territory, now covered 
by three considerable states of the Union, was deemed 
as in no small degree depending upon its result. And 
among the peculiar circumstances, characterizing this 
commemoration, it may be interesting to advert to 
the situation of this region at a time, when the pres- 
ence of a single tribe of Indians, hardly larger than 
those, which preserve their present positions at Penob- 
scot and Passamaquoddy, could strike such terrour to 
the hearts of thousands, and spread such trouble 
through the breasts of the community ; — and to scan 
the vast change its condition has undergone, since the 
time, when so much was considered to be at stake upon 
the issue of an expedition, composed of a body of per- 
sons hardly more numerous, than are now employed 
in the summer, camping among our forests, or driving 
our rivers, in the spring and fall, for timber. Such an 
event, it is obvious, is not to be measured by its own 
dimensions, so much as it is to be contemplated upon 
the scale of its general consequences. It affords one 
of the million illustrations of the progress of the grain 
of mustard-seed. Certain it is, the result had no small 
influence upon the future welfare of the country- 



25 



It is but to follow on a few steps, — to the time, 
when the stroke of the axe succeeded the charge of 
the musket — when the sound of the shuttle was heard 
instead of the hatchet — and the morning — noon — 
and evening sound of the bell to swing from the neigh- 
boring spire, over the surrounding space of country — 
then a mere cheerless waste of wood and water, a 
wild and trackless territory ; — and casting your eyes 
around in every direction, you behold a large and 
prosperous population, inhabiting two contiguous 
and important States, of which the present spot is al- 
most the connecting link ; you behold towns and vil- 
lages, schools and colleges, mills and manufactories, 
academies and churches — water power — mechanical 
power — mental power. All these monuments arise to 
enrich and ornament the interior ; while the busy 
marts of commerce stretch along the seashore — their 
piers covered with bales of merchandize — the sea 
swelling with the sailing and returning canvass — tem- 
ples rising in all our towns — and light-houses glittering 
along the coast. Our modes of defense are in the 
mean time changed from garrisons within to guards 
without ; and our principles of self-protection reversed 
from forts upon the frontier to fleets upon the ocean. 
Our forests are descending down our streams to trans- 
port the treasures of the soil, overshadowed with the 
thunders of our sovereignty, to the remotest sections 
of the universe. — 

Not high raised walls nor battlements 

constitute our safe-guards, but free institutions formed, 

i) 



26 



religion dispensed, justice administered, the influences 
of order felt almost without its sanctions, like the gentle 
showers of heaven, and men — "high-minded men" — 
discharging the functions of government — these are 
the present ramparts and securities of our social sys- 
tem. By a recent developement of the internal pow- 
ers of self government, in full accordance with the 
organic will of the nation, and in strict conformity 
with all the moral rules which bind society, the im- 
proved principles of social order have been re-estab- 
lished in this community, long poising on the point, 
and late arrived at the period, of political maturity; 
and which is now enjoying the free exercise of all its 
municipal faculties, in their full plenitude and vigour. 

While we thus indulge ourselves in the grateful 
contemplation of our present prosperity, let us linger 
for a moment to reverse the tablet, and enquire what 
has become of the Aborigines ? Where are the thir- 
ty tribes, that once ranged unrestrained within the 
present boundaries of New-England ? Where are the 
ancient Abenaquis of Acadia ? Where the Norridg- 
wock, or the numerous nations, that once possessed 
these broad domains under the general denomination 
of Tarateens ? Where are those, that speared the 
salmon in these streams, and chased the deer through 
these shades, and frequented the fairest portions of 
Maroshen for their food or their delight ? — Where are 
the leaves of the forest, that fell last year ? The White 
Hills remain, but the red men are gone. These tribes 
have long since become extinct, with but few and 
feeble exceptions ; — or if there runs a drop of their 



27 



blood in human veins, it wanders abroad to enrich 
some other soil, like the waters that turn away from 
the Atlantic, and fall into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, 
or wind their way to the western ocean. If we 
would look for the native on this side of the 
Alleghany, where his ancestors once were sachems, 
w 7 e may see him blanching beneath the influence, or 
blenching before the power, of civilization. Its terri- 
ble spirit has pronounced over him a paralyzing spell, 
or waves him away toward the wilderness with an en- 
chanter's wand. Or if it has breathed the milder 
accents of philanthropy, and spoken to him the be- 
nignant language of the gospel, and the aborigines 
have begun to redeem their condition from barbarity 
by pursuing the genial arts of agriculture ; and to taste 
the blessings of a new state of society, we may see them 
on the point of being expelled from their grounds, 
thus endeared to them by new associations, and about 
to bear the bones of their ancestors across the Appa* 
lachian mountains — bound beyond the Mississippi and 
Missouri, to lay their burdens at the foot of the Rocky 
Mountains ; — or to migrate still farther beyond the val- 
ley of the west, towards the setting sun, and the region 
where he may rise no more. — Wherever they are, a 
sense of their condition comes over them — like a 
cloud — and the most melancholy forebodings, respect- 
ing the future destinies of their race, fill their most 
intelligent and prophetic spirits.— That this depop- 
ulating principle has seized upon the very vitals of 
the aboriginal population, is as certain and perhaps as 
fatal, as that which is annually extending its ravages 



28 



over the Campagna of modern Rome. The deep 
crimson glow of the human complexion is vanishing 
away from the face of animated nature, like the colour 
of the evening sky. That rich red vein, in the fertil- 
izing bosom of the earth, which ran alike through 
South and North Virginia, is rapidly exhausted. — 
' We are driven back' said an aged warrior, resting 
against a decayed oak, 6 until we can retreat no far- 
ther. Our bows are broken. Our fires are extin- 
guished. In a short time the white people shall cease 
to persecute us — because we shall cease to be ! 5 

It cannot be denied, that there were rights to the 
soil, older than those of the Plymouth Company, the 
Waldo Patent, Sir Ferdinand Gorges, the Twenty 
Associates or the Ten Proprietors. And it never 
has been questioned, that this right was in the Abori- 
gines. The broad arrow of Indian sovereignty was 
traced upon these trees. The moral sense of the pres- 
ent age is too strong to insist, that these original rights 
have not been in some respect violated ; although it 
may be true, that a great proportion of the native title 
has been extinguished with innocence and integrity. 
The Indians, again, had some arts for the enjoyment 
of life ; and we now see only the ruins, or the remains, 
of a state, whether of nature or of society, that was 
sufficient for the enjoyment of a large portion of hu- 
man happiness. Here they gathered the green boughs 
upon which they slept ; and were refreshed by the 
same fragrance, that had regaled their ancestors for 
ages. Here their fires had burned for centuries. Here 
they raised their corn, and spent their second summer. 



29 



This was once the home of Watanummon, and perhaps 
of Adiawando. This spot, which barely covered the 
bones, was the fair patrimony, of Paugus ; and here on 
the bare earth — perhaps 

By too severe a fate — 

he lay, weltering in his blood. Although a cruel 
and merciless enemy, when his passions were roused 
by inflicted or imagined injury, or excited by Canadian 
artifice, the dark chief was not without his redeeming 
virtues. At other times he had hunted and slumbered 
by the side of the comrade, from whom he received the 
fatal bullet. Paugus might justly appeal to any man, 
if he ever came to his cabin hungry and cold, and he 
gave him an inhospitable reception. Love well was 
himself a bold and keen-scented hunter ; and the winter 
before had performed a daring and desperate exploit 
upon a body of Indians, lying around a fire, by a frozen 
pond. That was not his first, nor his only enterprise 
that season. The Pequawket revenged it. The son 
of the mountain and the mist found the scourge of his 
race at the throat of his retreat. He saw no beam of 
peace upon the prospect — nor gleam of refuge in the 
valley. But his heart knew no fear. He would not 
turn upon his heel to save his life. Who is there to 
mourn for Logan ! 

It would be unbecoming to dwell upon the painful 
circumstances attending the present situation, the de- 
graded condition and melancholy apprehensions of the 
Indian tribes, to awaken unavailing sensibility, or with 
any other view, than to affect the sense of public duty. 
The European has no more right to reproach us with 



30 



the condition of the Indian, than he has to taunt us 
with our descent from those, who enslaved the African. 
The English themselves, as well as the French and 
Spanish, are the authors of these distressing anomalies 
in our relations to both of those unfortunate races, 
which it has not been in our power to overrule, and 
the opprobrium of which they have ungenerously — 
nay, basely endeavoured to throw upon us. It was 
even to the benevolent Las Casas, the evangelist of 
his age, that we are indebted for the institution of 
slavery, in order to alleviate the oppression of the 
American Indians ; and the philanthropic spirit of 
Fenelon might in vain attempt to find a cure for this 
corruption of the blood. But it is not for us, to con- 
tract any voluntary addition to our vast responsibility. 
Let us not accumulate the maledictions of the inno- 
cent Indian upon those of the injured African. All 
Europe resounded with cries upon the breach of pub- 
lic faith, and morality, and religion, when a communi- 
ty professing the christian faith, was suffered to be 
expelled by the Ottoman power from the coast of Asia, 
by virtue of stipulations, to which some of its poten- 
tates were party — and history has already recorded, 
among the crimes of the present age, as the sympa- 
thy of Christendom has been excited by the story of, 
the Evacuation of Parga. The Indian is subdued — 
He is no more a savage. We have obliged the abo- 
rigines to pass through the Caudine Forks. We have 
no right to violate the capitulation, unless we can 
restore them to the condition, from which we conquer- 
ed or allured them ; and the penetrating eye of public 



31 



justice, which carefully inspects the proceedings of 
our young republic, will watch with extreme jealousy 
any new conventions, infringing the reservations al- 
ready guaranteed. It was the benevolent policy of the 
patriarchal founder of Pennsylvania, which has been 
pursued thus far with good faith by the federal gov- 
ernment, to improve the condition and promote the 
comfort and happiness of the Indian tribes. By the 
Treaty of Alliance, concluded with the Delaware 
nation at Fort Pitt in 1778, while the revolutionary 
war was still in progress, it was contemplated to es- 
tablish an Indian State, with that tribe at its head, on 
terms of admission into the confederacy, upon a co-or- 
dinate footing, with ti right to representation in Con- 
gress. Though this benevolent plan was frustrated by 
causes, not perhaps unlike those, which embarrassed 
the whole policy of confederation, and the project 
never was, probably never will be, renewed, it was one 
of the first cares of the national government, after its 
new organization, to secure to the Indians all the 
practicable; benefits of the compact, considering them 
as. colonies within our own bosom. And with the 
administration, that commenced the present century, 
may be said to have begun a policy of social improve- 
ment for the Indian tribes within our limits, construct- 
ed upon the purest moral principle, in a spirit of 
direct, regard to their well-being. A dignified citizen 
of the south, whom the good wishes of all his fellow 7 
citizens follow into his graceful retirement, suggested 
a plan for producing a perfect interchange of all the 
circumstances of their social condition ; and the last 



32 



accents of our late paternal chief magistrate were 
those of an anxious father for the adopted children of 
the nation. 

But it cannot be concealed, that the aboriginal de- 
generates under the process, which is prescribed, not 
less for our own peace and protection, than for the 
improvement of his social condition. Civilization it- 
self is but an expedient for our own security, that 
deprives the Indian at once of half his virtues, as it 
robs him of all his power — And when we have spoiled 
these children of nature by the arts of society, when 
we have unfitted them for the life of the forest, shall 
we send them to wrest the game from the hardier hun- 
ter of the west, already inflamed by encroachment — 
to venture a competition of title with the elder tenant 
of the shade ? And what security can they have, that 
the same foot of the white man shall not press upon 
their retreating steps ; and they be obliged to yield 
their cultivated farms, at some future period, perhaps 
to reward the veteran services of American riflemen ? 
And if all the guarantees, that we can give, must fail 
at last — if the stricken deer must go into the wilder- 
ness with the fatal arrow fixed into his side — if the 
irreversible curse of the mariner's compass has, in 
earnest, come upon the Indian, and his final extermin- 
ation is the inevitable condition of civilization — and 
this be the law, either of our nature, our society, or 
our republic — if one cession, after another, must be 
made to the peace of the union, and we must compro- 
mise again the rights of humanity to preserve a spirit 
of harmony — the best expiation we can make, the only 



33 



atonement we can offer to the spirit of the Indian— 
a spirit, perhaps, more sinned against than sinning — 
if the case admits of such compensation — is by suc- 
cessfully seeking to superinduce a more perfect sys- 
tem of social happiness, than he is providentially quali- 
fied to participate ; and for that purpose to unfold all 
the intrinsic capacities of our situation, and to promote 
all its essential principles of virtue, liberty and justice. 

It cannot be conceived, that the noble and exten- 
sive region of North America was intended for the Es- 
quimaux — or appointed to be wandered over, like the 
Desart of Arabia. As the bounties of nature could 
not be exhausted by a sparse and unsettled population, 
its migratory hordes could never have been designed 
to appropriate the bestowments of a wise and be- 
nevolent providence. — The compass requisite for the 
chase of a single hunter, suffices to support a thou- 
sand cultivators of the soil. — May it not, again, be 
deemed, that the refluent wave, which first ebbed from 
the Levant — and undulated through the Archipelago— 
around the Pillars of Hercules— and spread along the 
coast of Europe — was eventually destined to wash the 
shore of America ? — and that here a finer foundation 
for social felicity should be laid, than Asia had enjoy- 
ed — a more beautiful form of society reflected, than 
Europe had ever beheld ? 

It may seem, that after the accomplishment of that 
extraordinary advent, which had been contemplated 
throughout the east — affecting the moral constitution 
of mankind— towards the period of the Roman pow- 
er, a prophetic expectation arose of some fortunate 

E 



34 



discovery in the west.* This anticipation, which can 
hardly be considered poetical or indefinite, gradually 
expanded into a grateful vision of finding a more fresh 
and favourable field, than Europe or Asia afforded, 
for a prosperous experiment upon the principles of 
civil order, and the means of social happiness. The 
idea of some fair-spread region of this description, far 
over the sea, presented itself in dreams by day to the 
philanthropist of the old world, — to console him for 
the darkness of ages, that had clouded down upon the 
auspicious dawn of Christianity — where law should 
be level with liberty, and authority tempered with 
equity, and government administered with purity, sim- 
plicity and economy I 

These were problems, for which no satisfactory 
solution had been found. Society had suffered from 
too much regulation. Nature had not been trusted 
enough to her own sagacity. Education had not been 
raised to its proper height, nor expanded to its true 
power. The principles of natural and universal law 
were pressed down by feudal and ecclesiastical insti- 
tutions. — These were enigmas, which Europe could 
not explain. The rights of mankind had there been 
defrauded. The hopes of humanity had there been 
frustrated. No fruition had been found for the finest 
aspirations of philanthropy — no consummation of the 



* Venient annis 

Saecula seris, quibus oceanus 
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
Pateat tellus, Tiphysque novos 
Detegat orbes ; nec sit terris 
Ultima Thule. 



35 



fairest results of philosophy. Nothing was compari- 
tively realized from the long teachings of example and 
experience. No permanent progress appeared to have 
been made in the general career of social improve- 
ment. No effectual barrier seemed to be raised against 
the calamitous recurrence of another furious inroad — 
from a barbarian cast of population, distinguished by 
no complexional variety — such as the teeming north 
was ever ready to pour down upon the milder climes of 
Christendom.— Again, and again, had it burst in upon 
the spreading bounds of civilization — like trade- winds 
towards a region continually rarified by the sun, from 
a source, of which the elements are never exhausted — 
overwhelming the establishments of society, like a tor- 
nado — burying the monuments of art and genius, and 
blackening the horizon with smoke and ashes, like some 
terrific eruption of a volcano — such as has covered 
cities under the crust of ages, alternately tormenting 
the world with a vain desire to recover the past, and 
irritating the pride of science by the astonishing reve- 
lation of what was before supposed to be new. 

If there was no sure defence from assault and inva- 
sion without, neither was there any security against 
corruption of the principles of society within. In 
government, it is very true, there was little to be cor- 
rupted ; and when a combined movement was made 
to establish in England, what Hampden and Pym, 
were about embarking to enjoy, with Cromwell — in 
America, its promoters could neither find competent 
security for their own virtue, nor set up any adequate 
bar against the reaction of arbitrary power.— The 



36 



proper time therefore appeared to have arrived for 
making a new experiment ; the most interesting and 
important, unquestionably, in all its circumstances and 
relations, that the world ever witnessed. A new 
scion was to be sent forth ; and inoculated into a 
strange stock. Fresh blood was to be taken from some 
of the purest arteries in Europe ; and poured into the 
veins of a young society, begotten, as it may be said, 
in the old age of the world. — 6 1 like,' says Bacon, ' a 
plantation in a pure soil ; that is, where people are 
not displanted, to the end to plant in others ; else it is 
rather an extirpation, than a plantation.' In this 
new process a favoured race may appear to have been 
selected ; like that, which w as chosen, in the second 
stage of the world, to restore its primary condition — 
this to be the repository of the true principles of 
liberty, as that was of the pure elements of religion — 
and before which the native population was destined 
to recede and give space, by the operation of natural 
causes, without precipitate results, and without inspir- 
ing any apprehension of its re-appearance to embar- 
rass the execution of the project. 

The geography of America has been pronounced by 
one, who has investigated the philosophical connex- 
ion between natural and political causes, favourable to 
freedom. But it cannot be said, that the continent 
w as discovered, or colonization commenced, in any 
deliberate design to establish its principles. The 
great magnetic point did not so soon acquire its true 
polarity. An ulterior object of the voyage gave to the 
first discovery the name of West-Indies. The colonies 



37 



were bred and treated like silk-worms, whose industry 
is not for themselves. They were sent to cultivate 
the sugar-cane and tobacco-leaf; and in due time 
doomed to prepare the cotton-plant for the market of 
their task-masters. America was held, as an appur- 
tenance to Europe ; — and her arrangements were all 
projected on the same model of colonial monopoly, 
as the East-India, Hudson Bay and North- West Com- 
panies. But by some interesting filiation — 

There's a Divinity, that shapes our ends. — 

The colonial condition is now acknowledged to be 
the chrysalis of independence. The only El Dorado 
is to be discovered in the simplest form of govern- 
ment. To the visionary pursuit of gold the w 7 orld 
may be indebted for the science of liberty, as well as 
chemistry — and free institutions may be said to have 
been found in following the fur-trade and the fisheries. 

The free and glorious spirit, that has gone abroad, 
throughout the country, may well invite to a refresh- 
ing memorial of all the causes, to which we owe 
this national feeling. The true genius of our institu- 
tions invites, at all seasons, a constant recurrence to 
their first principles. To judge of the progress, w hich 
these principles have made, we need only cast our 
eyes back a century, or two, to contemplate those 
abuses of them, from which our ancestors fled, and 
contrast them against the first results of those free in- 
stitutions, which they founded. 

It is true, that a natural solicitude, concerning the 
great experiment, weighed upon the first founders of 
our free government ; and its lively corner-stones 



38 



were not laid, without many prayers and supplications* 
The experience of the period, subsequent to the revo- 
lution, when the pressure of peril was relieved, and the 
danger of subjugation determined, did not leave an 
entirely satisfactory impression on their minds. The 
Dii Bfinorum Gentium, the gods of the smaller states, 
were averse to a predominating power to be exercised 
over local pride and ambition, on behalf of the whole 
people of the union ; and the apprehension of disor- 
der, to result from the imperfection of its bond, arose 
coeval with the first form, in which it was organized. 
The portentous fact, moreover, was presented to them 
by the faithful hand of history, that pure democracy 
had always failed, in some degree, of sufficient virtue 
to preserve its principles from corruption. — Hence, 
the morning, noon, and evening song of 1788 was an- 
archy — the danger of anarchy, rather than despotism. 

That there may not have been, in advance, an ab- 
solute confidence accorded to the essential principles 
of republican government, demanded upon so broad a 
scale — that there might have been some doubt con- 
cerning their efficacy for self-preservation — that some 
scepticism may have been originally entertained re- 
lating to the combination of sufficient virtue, with the 
intelligence of the community, to secure its own poli- 
tical existence, and vindicate at once its liberty and 
justice — may not be deemed altogether incredible. — 
It is not unnatural to suppose, that apprehensions of 
this kind should have forced or infused themselves 
into some of the fairest minds and purest spirits in 
the country* If they fastened themselves, for a while. 



39 



upon a portion of the virtuous and patriotic — if they 
seized upon the vigorous authors of our constitution- 
al commentary — let the remembrance rise before the 
nation, of the sacrifice, that w as offered to redeem 
its faith, and discharge the debt of the revolution — 
of the zeal, that was devoted to rear the fabric of the 
federation — and the labours, that were exhausted to 
organize the resources of the union — and how they 
were straitened, until it was accomplished — and let 
the prayer come up before the country, that was utter- 
ed over the hearse of him — the earliest — the only one 
of that illustrious number, whom it mourns — ' pardon 
that single errour in a life devoted to your service !' 

The Dangers of American Liberty were afterwards 
descanted upon with extraordinary enthusiasm. An 
idea was propagated, that it was altogether untena- 
ble ; — that we should pass, in the usual descent, from 
one degree to another ; — that we were destined to be 
the victims of successive factions, the last of which 
should be the worst. It was even predicted, that re- 
publican institutions would only last, as long as white 
birch stakes ; and that the sap would rot still sooner. 
Democracy, in fine, was represented as a region, flash- 
ing with the flames — and ringing with the ruins — to 
which it was devoted ! 

It is a curious circumstance, mentioned by a saga- 
cious historian, whose philosophical temper and tory- 
ism detract nothing from his testimony ; — that there is 
scarcely a single maxim in The Prince, which subse- 
quent experience has not entirely refuted. The rea- 
son is assigned, that the observations of Machiavel 



40 



were confined either to the furious tyrannies of anti- 
quity, or the petty disorderly principalities of Italy — 
and that although a great genius, he lived at too early 
an age, to be a good judge of political philosophy. 

A deep solk itude for the republic undoubtedly pos- 
sessed the soul of a departed patriot, to which heaven 
imparted all the ardour, though providence has de- 
nied the inspiration, of a prophet. The sacred office, 
which he assumed for the sake of his country, was 
sustained with a fervour, a power, a purity and an 
enthusiasm, which plead trumpet-tongued, in favour 
of his fame, at the bar of his country. True, he shew- 
ed his dark speech upon the harp. The strain, in 
which his spirit ranged through his country's destiny, 
varied through all the modes of mortal eloquence — 
from the most distant note, that ever came upon the 
ear, at eventide along the mountains — swelling with 
the richness of some seraphic lyre among the stars — 
until it burst upon the ear with the choral harmony 
of the spheres. — Not like Laocoon, or the sister spirit 
of Cassandra, fated to be disbelieved in his day and 
to leave his predictions recorded in the disasters, or 
found to be inscribed upon the ruins, of his country, 
his mission more resembled that of a scripture proph- 
et, dispatched to denounce the conditional judgments 
of heaven, to be averted either by the virtue of the 
people, or the intercession of the messenger. — It may 
perhaps be allowed, that he wanted faith in the gen- 
uine principles of popular government. Constitution- 
al causes may have combined with the moral impres- 
sions of ancient and modern history, to produce upon 



41 



his mind a deep despondency, concerning the fortunes 
of the republic ; and their perpetual pressure may 
have united with a brilliant imagination to invest the 
subject with supernumerary horrours. Perhaps he 
was one of those, that are induced by their very spirits 
to despair of their race — who would have entered the 
gates of paradise itself with a melancholy forboding, 
that they were soon to close upon them again forever; 
and who are excluded by the infelicity of their frames 
from the immortal enjoyment of reposing with confi- 
dence upon the inherent — impulsive — tendency of so- 
ciety towards perfection. It was probably his pro- 
pensity to dwell too deeply upon the diseases and de- 
cays of the social system, without allowing sufficient 
scope for the operation of its latent, internal energies ; 
or refreshing his faith sufficiently from the consoling 
sources of its rich and restoring and regenerating 
principles — and the glorious auguries resulting from 
all the material and moral analogies of the universe. 

If it was the opinion of Ames, that this western 
world was unfit for democratic government — it was 
simply his persuasion, that the democratic principle 
was too good for man — and that the successful admin- 
istration of a republic demanded angels to be con- 
stantly ascending and descending. But his philan- 
thropy was undiminished, although it disposed him 
to increase and strengthen the artificial expedients 
of social security, rather than to place an implicit trust 
in the natural impulses of the human heart. It is im- 
possible to pursue the course of his productions, and 

F 



42 



not perceive a pure flame of patriotic love and ardour 
for his country, constantly ascending up to heaven. — 
Let us not fail to do justice to his purity, therefore, 
while we do not cease, day and night, to disprove his 
prophecy — and listen to the solemn strain, as to the 
warning voice of a departing friend. — His fame is the 
fair inheritance — as his life was the property — of his 
country. And all those mysterious figures — 

Like to that sanguine flower, inscribed with woe, — 

which he has wrought into the wonderful web of his 
country's destiny, may still remain to enrich the em- 
broidery, or are capable of being removed, by a gentle 
and classical hand, without impairing the texture, or 
violating the delicacy, of the drapery. 

The original apprehension inspired concerning the 
constitution undoubtedly was — not that it was not 
strong enough, for the purpose of power — but that it 
was not powerful enough, for the purpose of liberty. — 
Time at least was wanting to establish its principles. 
Hence, meanwhile, its friends inclined to take bonds 
of fate. — But it is vain to seek in the positive structure 
of society for those securities, which must depend in 
the main upon its spirit. Who shall take care of the 
keepers ? What shall we do with the fire, when it 
seizes the extinguishers ? Where shall the powers 
of art be applied, when the springs of nature cease 
to play ? The spirit of a people cannot be perfectly 
enshrined in the specific form of a constitution. The 
success of any system must depend forever upon the 
healthy action of its natural principles. 



43 



In a great country, which enjoys a freedom like our 
own, it is plain, that the simplest institutions* for con- 
centrating the ideas, and exerting the energies, of the 
whole community, are the most suitable. The prin- 
ciples of society themselves, in the first place, lay at 
the foundation, and give efficacy to the operative 
principles, of government. — There is much truth, if not 
originality, in the reflection of a fine and liberal mind, 
that, what we are accustomed to regard as political 
order, is in a great measure, the result of the passions 
and wants of man, combined with the circumstances 
of his condition ; or what is in other words the wisdom 
of nature — all acting in such beautiful subserviency 
to her suggestions, as to raise the idea of original 
arrangement. The natural tendency, that exists in 
every society, which, in consequence of the general 
spirit of its government, enjoys the blessings of tran- 
quillity and liberty, is so strong as to overcome many 
powerful obstacles, which the imperfection of human 
institutions opposes to its progress. The greater 
portion of political disorders do not proceed from the 
want of foresight in the framers of political con- 
stitutions, rendering their prospective provisions too 
general, so much as from not paying sufficient re- 
gard to the operations of those simple institutions, 
which nature and justice recommend. The superi- 
ority of political wisdom consists, not in encumbering 
the machine of government with new contrivances to 
obviate partial and accidental inconveniences, but in 
gradually and silently removing the obstacles, which 
disturb the order of nature, and according to the ex- 



44 



pression of Addison, ingrafting upon her institutions. 
There is moreover, an intrinsic principle of health, a 
vis medicatrix in the social system, and especially in 
the political, like the human, when the general con- 
stitution is sound ; the virtue of which we may be apt 
to ascribe to artificial causes, when it frequently serves 
to disguise and correct their ill effects*. To these 
just and liberal considerations, may be added reflec- 
tions arising from the character of our federal sys- 
tem ; namely, the powerful influence of a gravitating 
principle to bind and preserve its members in their 
spheres ; — and the silent, sublime, celestial mechan- 
ism, which serves to remedy any irregularity of their 
planetary motions. 

We have entered upon a sober experiment, how far 
the simple moral principles of society are competent 
for their own political preservation ; and the problem 
is yet to be solved, how far the expedient is practica- 
ble for reconciling authority with liberty. The ex- 
traordinary idea, that a whole people is not competent 
to the office of self-government, goes to the root of our 
system. Popular power is the basis of all our insti- 
tutions ; and the general weal is managed by a sim- 
ple organization of the sense and reason of the com- 
munity, manifesting its general will. The notion, 
that a people has not the faculty of self-controul, is a 
solecism. It would argue a defect in the moral consti- 
tution of mankind ; if it did not amount to an impeach- 
ment of the wisdom of providence. It would seem to 
shew, that man was unfit to be the subject of moral 

* Stewart's Elements — Vol, I. chap. 4, sec. 8- 



45 



government ; and serve to shew the absurdity of all 
government. It would be matter of singular reflection 
upon the state of political society, if the wisdom of the 
whole should prove less competent to its management, 
than the wisdom of part. 

By giving to public opinion an absolute and audible 
representation, and by placing a more responsible and 
emphatic reliance upon the presiding sense of the com- 
munity — by giving that scope and activity to its in- 
stincts and operations, which are derived from free 
institutions alone — by bringing home to the business 
and bosoms of society the immediate consequences 
of its determinations, or causing them to be felt in their 
remotest bearings — that sense is quickened, corrected, 
cultivated — disciplined ; — caution and prudence are 
inspired ; and all its faculties summoned in vindica- 
tion of its principles. — No system possesses such self- 
repairing resources ; — none is so little liable to explos- 
ion, as one, where the safety-valves are always open. 

As a fact, in the first instance, that nothing can re- 
sist the real power of the people — as the faith of the 
whole community, that nothing ought to be above it — 
as a point settled equally in the theory and history of 
our system, it is the part of wisdom to improve, and 
of patriotism to vindicate, the principle. Such a cir- 
cumstance in our condition, is not merely to be tole- 
rated, as an unavoidable evil. It is to be cherished, 
as a positive good ; and the absolute irregularity of its 
action is entitled to be treated, as c the progress of a 
generous and powerful principle to perfection. 5 * 

* Burke's Letter to Sir H. Langrishe. 



46 



The prevalence of an opposite idea, at whatever 
period, or under whatever circumstances, it may pre- 
dominate, is simply sapping the foundation of our free 
system, which rests on public sentiment solely. Its 
perdition, can, in any event, only come from the aban- 
donment of its principles ; and the destruction of the 
popular faith in them is but an ill omen of their justi- 
fication. Patriotism is never allowed to despair of the 
commonwealth. To redeem the true principle of self- 
government, therefore, from misapprehension and per- 
version — to rescue it from corruption and reproach 
— to drag up its drowning honour, at any extremity — 
and restore it to its central position, like the heart of 
the human, or the grand refulgent orb of the solar, 
system — these are ends, which it can be no inconsis- 
tency to compass — no imputation to imagine. — It is 
worthy of the highest, and the purest, patriotism to 
break the spell, which may bind such a belief — to 
dispel the phantom, and chase it like a cloud, from 
the mind — and dissipate a delusion, so ominous and 
prejudicial to the public welfare. The purity of testi- 
mony given to such a truth, there can be no cause to 
question. The tribute cannot be too ample and 
unequivocal ; — and whatever triumph attend it, we 
may hail without regret. For whatever objections may 
lie against our system, who would ever abandon it ? 
With all its evils, who would discard it for any other 
form of human authority, founded on the admission of 
any principle, at w ar with the equal rights and liberty 
of mankind ?- — 



47 

It is execrable in a son of Adam, to aspire 
Above his brethren, to himself assuming 
Authority usurped — from God not given. 
He gave us only over beast — fish — fowl — 
Dominion absolute. — That right we hold 
By his donation ; — but man over man 
He made not Lord ; — such title to himself 
Reserving — human left from human free. 

While the theory of popular government undoubt- 
edly presumes the prevailing rectitude of public senti- 
ment, it makes no presumption, of which the force 
is not now universally acknowledged, either in the 
general reference to its authority, or the direct appeal 
to its arbitrement. It moreover makes no requisition, 
other than what is founded on confidence in the prin- 
ciple, and faith in the progress, of reason — and only 
demands that those, whose voice must be heard on 
every measure, should have a hand in its controul. It 
does not assume that papal infallibility, from which its 
protestant principle has revolted. It challenges no 
implicit faith ; for it exposes every thing to examina- 
tion. It does not imply, that the will of any propor- 
tion of the community, however transcendant, is para- 
mount to that invariable restriction, which principle 
imposes on power. It does not, of course, confound 
every light and transient shadow, that flies over the 
landscape — the mere ephemeral indications of passing 
events — with the solid rocks, that have been placed 
from eternity, and the permanent landmarks, that have 
been established by experience. Means are provided 
for rectifying its results — and poising the passions, in 
order to suspend the judgment, of the public. The 
sense of the community must have time to settle ; and 



48 



mankind may repose upon its own judgment, after 
some period has elapsed. The united wisdom of one 
age, in this respect, bears some ratio to the collected 
wisdom of several. — Neither does the supposition re- 
quire the sacrifice of independence in regard to any 
subject, on which public opinion is yet to be formed, 
or is capable of being improved, or even changed. It 
requires no compromise of belief, except upon the 
ground of conviction ; for no man has a right to re- 
nounce any point, of which he is honestly persuaded. 
The right of appeal is always open, and the public ear 
is also. The idea requires no impracticable harmony 
of discordant elements ; produces no restraint upon 
the most wholesome freedom of difference and oppo- 
sition. It is a principle, that disturbs no manly breast. 
It need w ork no abatement of an honest zeal to guide 
and influence public opinion upon important subjects. 
On the contrary, there is an encouragement, and a 
consolation, of the highest description, at once afforded 
by the reliance, which may be placed upon its polarity ; 
and the highest inducement is thus held out to aim 
to improve a standard, to the test of which all things 
must be brought, and all subjects submitted. — The re- 
sult of this experiment upon its largest scale, thus far, 
warrants no just ground of concern respecting the 
prevalence of truth. It need inspire no fear for hon- 
est fame ; nor reasonable apprehension in respect to 
correct estimate of patriotic service. The experience 
of this whole society does not yet create any painful 
solicitude, in regard to the pursuit and discovery of a 
more practicable and unerring sanction. 



49 



Experience has certainly shown no sufficient reason 
to question the general aptitude of the People for self- 
government. When we observe the capacity, discov- 
ered by the members of society in all their concerns ; 
a sagacity entering into all subjects, extending to all 
relations, and equal to all occasions— carried also into 
duties of administering its authority; — and when we 
observe them indiscriminately executing or aiding in 
all its departments, civil and judicial ; — as jurors, 
magistrates, legislators, governors— acting as trustees 
of all the interests of the community for the benefit of 
the public, and as guardians of all those rights, for 
which law was designed as security — taken continual- 
ly from all classes— -and returning to the general mass 
by the perpetual elective process — can we any longer 
doubt the efficacy of this great principle, which is thus 
receiving constant refreshment and vigour from its 
original fountains ? 

But popular power, it is to be remembered, is moral 
power ; and it is of the utmost consequence, that its 
intellectual principle should be well informed. The 
safety of a state was represented by a sensible scholar 
of the 16th century, to depend mainly on three things : 
upon the proper education of the Prince — upon public 
teachers — and on schoolmasters. The prime object 
in any government is undoubtedly the education of the 
sovereign. In England, it was not long since an object 
of general concern, to provide for the education of a 
young princess. In proportion as the power vested in 
the sovereign becomes absolute, the pursuit acquires 
importance. With a view to improve the principles 



50 



of self-government in a state of society, that subjects 
every thing to its sense — in a country, where the 
whole sovereignty is lodged in the people — and all 
authority is exercised upon the strictest responsibility, 
to the end of its universal welfare, the education of the 
ichde becomes the first interest of all, — The diffusion 
of knowledge becomes, therefore, the distribution of 
power. Where authority is appropriated for other 
purposes, than the general good, under any partial 
organization, a part is studiously educated for the 
government of the rest, who are deliberately left in 
ignorance, to support the fundamental principles of 
the government. The proper system of republican 
education should combine the regular course of useful 
elementary instruction, with that species of education, 
which naturally 'results from the political order of 
society.' In this manner, the moral education of the 
prince, if I may use the expression, becomes of the first 
importance ; and it is a happy circumstance, that there 
is always a generation of young and fair minds spring- 
ing up among the people, free from any false impres- 
sions, in proper season to assume the real reins of 
power, and exemplify the true principles and influence 
of education. 

It must be obvious, that to urge the general interest 
of education, can be influenced by no narrow motive. 
It can have no insidious purpose. It pleads the cause 
of no party — it advocates no profession — is propitious 
to no predominance. It urges one of the most im- 
portant interests of society. It argues on behalf of 
its order and comfort, its present and future good ; and 



51 



opens the most ample field to its fairest claims and 
prospects. Its cause involves the purest objects of be- 
nevolence ; its concern affects the highest aspirations 
of virtue and piety ; and its interest touches some of 
the noblest and tenderest springs of our nature ;— the 
affection of the parent for his children ; — the zeal of 
the patriot for his country; — the ardour of the philan- 
thropist for his kind. With its success is identified 
almost every rational hope of the future welfare of 
our race ; extending to the suppression of the most 
fruitful causes of vice and misery — and embracing the 
widest spread of peace and happiness beneath the 
cope of heaven. 

* Grateful, — as I am,' — were the last words of that 
wonderful genius, who has left the mysterious sha- 
dow of a mighty name, — ' to that good being, w hose 
bounty has imparted to me this reasoning faculty, 
whatever it is, I hold myself proportionally indebted to 
him, from whose enlightened understanding, another 
ray of knowledge communicates to mine. But neither 
should I think the most exalted faculties of the human 
mind a gift worthy of the divinity, nor any assistance 
in the improvement of them a subject of gratitude to 
my fellow creature, if I were not satisfied, that really 
to inform the understanding, corrects and enlarges 
the heart !' 

Moral power rests upon the only sure and solid basis 
of right and justice. Under a political dispensation, 
where the responsibility falls, without relief, upon the 
people, if the dictates of eternal justice are violated, 
the consequences of retributive justice may be assur- 



52 



ed to follow. Justice is one of the first duties of a 
republic ; it is the corner-stone of the Temple of Lib- 
erty ; and it is a virtue, not among the least, exposed 
to violation. Aristides was banished by a republic, 
from jealousy of the very name ; and its ancient policy 
was undoubtedly apt to nourish a spirit pernicious to 
the principle. 

Party may unquestionably be salutary, if its end be 
public and its spirit patriotic ; since more may be ac- 
complished by combined, systematic exertions, than 
can be effected by irregular and distracted efforts. — 
But the greatest good, it is equally obvious, can only 
be attained by the united and hearty exertions of the 
whole mass of the community. Party, in such a point 
of view, may be regarded as a simple expedient for 
mutilating the state of a measure of its force ; — for par- 
alyzing one side of it* power, — depriving the country 
of a portion of its effective strength for the promotion 
of its great objects. — There were always, it is said, two 
parties in Carthage — one for peace, and the other for 
war ; — the consequence was, that Carthage never en- 
joyed the full advantage of peace or war. — Certain 
prejudices are represented to prevail in more early 
periods of society, which are supposed to be benefi- 
cial to its welfare ; but which gradually lose their influ- 
ence, and would probably disappear entirely, if it were 
not found convenient to prolong their existence, as a 
source of authority over the multitude. — The virtue of 
the people is undoubtedly proved, in supporting par- 
ties, so long as they are salutary, and in suppressing 
ihem, whenever they are nuisances ; — in cherishing 



53 



them, while they are founded and conducted on prin- 
ciple ; and in ceasing to sustain them, when their 
differences are extinguished, or their forms are only 
preserved for selfish or factious purposes. The con- 
stitution, it is evident, was not designed to systematize 
a perpetual organization of parties. 

It is true, that the history of parties in this country, 
is coeval with the origin, and connected with the 
progress, of our political institutions. And while they 
have even left their foot-prints upon the foundations, 
and impressed their relief upon the strong features, of 
the federal structure, they have at the same time been 
mild in their type and complexion beyond all record- 
ed example. Ancient or modern history affords no 
comparison. They are stained by no marks of blood 
or violence ; — they revive the memory of no proscrip- 
tions nor massacres ; — nor can they be deliberately 
accused of using their predominance with positive cru- 
elty or oppression. The moral character of our popu- 
lation has moderated the natural consequences of civil 
dissension. If parties may not be permitted to make 
pretension to generosity, they may properly be allowed 
to appeal to the unquestionable proofs of their purity ; 
and while they point to the lofty and durable monu- 
ments of their patriotism, justly plead the influence of 
extraordinary causes, in vindication against any erro- 
neous imputations. By the theory of our government 
long ago pronounced, the people themselves are of no 
party. And it is quite true, that some of our most 
national institutions are the work of 6 joint counsels 
and confederate patriotism.' 



54 



The most eloquent spirit of the age is justice. That 
spirit is strongly opposed to all political orders, privi- 
leges and dominations. It is distinguished by an aver- 
sion to despotism under every form, and to monopoly 
in every shape ; from the most simple and obvious ex- 
amples of those systems in Europe, to a virtual estab- 
lishment under any popular designation in America. 
An open persuasion prevails abroad, of the impolicy 
of seeking to secure any measure of public good apart 
from the whole of the people — of raising any exclusive 
advantage upon the depression of any general concern 
of the community ; or even pushing a legitimate interest 
at disproportionate expense or sacrifice. — An invinci- 
ble repugnance exists in the breast of the nation against 
cherishing any project incompatible with the designs 
of the compact, or any sentiment inconsistent with the 
principles of the union. All the true interests of 
society stand on the same footing, in perfect consisten- 
cv with each other, and in unison with the greatest 
product of general prosperity. Hence an augmented 
appreciation of the value of our common patrimony ; 
and an increasing opinion of the essential injury 
of suffering the inheritance to be engrossed, or of 
permitting any portion of society to make use of its 
forms against its spirit. — Hence the deliberate judg- 
ment of the community against any unwarrantable 
appropriation of the blessings of social order — or 
of setting apart any portion from the general mass of 
honour and happiness belonging to the community, 
instead of opening the career of public service to an 
useful and generous strife of competition and emula- 



55 



lion, and spreading out the highest and most animating 
inducements. Let there be added, a deep reprobation 
of the gross injustice of all odious political imputation, 
repugnant to the innate principles of moral rectitude, 
and revolting to the most virtuous feelings of mankind. 
Think you those, upon whom the Tower of Siloam 
f e ll 9 — o r those, whose blood Pilate mingled in their 
sacrifices — were sinners above all the Galileans ? — 
Again add — a stern, indignant rebuke of all attempts 
to affect the fame of national benefactors ; disturbing 
the heaps, which affection has raised over their re- 
mains — or defacing the monuments, which gratitude has 
erected to their memory; — opening the wounds, which 
the hand of time has gently healed — desecrating the 
virtues, it has cherished — or violating its benevolent 
amnesty and oblivion. In opposition to all such un- 
hallowed purposes and passions, a different spirit — 
tolerant, liberal, catholic, has prevailed. Our repub- 
lican system might indeed be deemed to have failed 
most ominously in the outset, if it had proved inca- 
pable of subduing the morbid remains of a malignant 
spirit. — And this triumphant vindication of its moral 
sense is reviving to a rational confidence in its funda- 
mental principles. 

We are warranted to repose upon the wholesome 
operation of public opinion. Its progressive influence 
appears like vegetation upon the surface, after it has 
been working and striking its shoots deep into the soil. 
Its seeds exist in the ground, long before its produc- 
tions are sent forth. It commences in the primary 
and internal principles of society ; proceeding silently, 



56 



ascending steadily, up, invigorating the stock and en- 
tering with life into the branches. A change of this 
description exists in fact, before it is announced. Its 
light advances like the day, which first begins to illu- 
mine the highest tops, until it warms and fertilizes the 
earth and calls forth all its powers and luxuriance. — 
Its influence is disseminated through the great mass 
of public sentiment, until it thoroughly pervades the 
whole body of the community. Its changes often 
anticipate the sagacity of political wisdom ; they grow 
out of each other, in some manner, like the seasons ; 
and when we cannot divine their sources, we may still 
distinguish their sounds. Too mighty to be attribut- 
ed to the mere prophetic chants, by which they may 
be preluded, their auguries may be discerned in the 
most angry aspect of the elements — the bow is bent 
in the clouds — and the pause, the peace, that follow, 
have all the serene and potent influence of a charm. 

Within the experience of this nation, three revolu- 
tions have already occurred — the first political — the 
second civil — and the third moral — the last embracing 
whatever was salutary and valuable in the two former. 
The evidence of this last auspicious change, which 
has been proclaimed by the most distinguished organs 
of the community, is fresh in the abatement of political 
strife, and the improvement of public feeling; and in the 
universal direction of public spirit to public objects. 
It is proclaimed in popular assemblies — in public 
bodies — in the national legislature, where no addresses 
are regarded, except those which concern the inter- 
est of the community ; — in its general determination 



against the importance of any other securities, than 
those, that are required for the public good ; — or of 
maintaining any political ascendancy, paramount to 
the supreme constitutional law. It is proclaimed in 
the broad appeal, on the recent national occasion, to 
general considerations ; — in the harmonious and patri- 
otic character of the result. It is proclaimed in the tone 
of society— in the peace and the order of the com- 
munity ; — in the prosperity of the nation. 

America is always alive to the obligations of justice. 
Its feeling has been freshly redeemed towards a for- 
eigner. It has been fulfilled in relation to the fath- 
er of his country. Shall it not be vindicated against 
every reproach ? — Rome saw her Ciceros sink beneath 
the daggers of assasins. But it was in her expiring 
days. She suffered her Scipios to canvass in vain for 
her confidence. She even banished them from her 
bosom ; — but she was ever eager to do justice to their 
virtues ; and paid a faithful tribute to their memory. 
It is not the failing of this country to forget its bene- 
factors. It has pensioned its poor soldiers ; and has 
pillowed the declining days of its military heroes. 
It will leave no deed undone to the last of its revolu- 
tionary worthies. Least of all is it the fashion of those, 
that descended from Plymouth, to forget the rock, that 
begat their piety. New-England will never forsake 
the stock of the pilgrims. She has always cherished 
the will to do, and honoured the soul to dare, and 
reverenced that hardihood of antiquity, which distin- 
guish their descendants. While she has never been 
unjust — while she has ever accorded a liberal mea- 

11 



58 



sure of justice, to those favoured sous of the nation, 
whom she had not the privilege to call her own, — she 
will not be found wanting in self-respect. Neither 
will the country refuse to render the equal meed of 
merited justice to all of those eminent individuals, 
who have administered the government with patriot- 
ism, and having departed from power with purity, be- 
come the patriarchs of the community. — Never will a 
great and magnanimous nation be unmindful of that 
dauntless zeal and courage — that power in debate — 
and ardour in action — energy at home^ — activity a- 
broad — which inspired such life and vigour into the 
soul of the revolution. Let a not ungrateful peo- 
ple venerate the individual — who, transported by no 
false enthusiasm, saw, with a prophetic eye, all the 
blood and toil and treasure it would cost to maintain 
the declaration of independence ; but who thought the 
end well worthy of all the means ; — who, through the 
gloom, beheld the rays of light and glory, and antici- 
pated its glorious consummation, from one end of this 
great continent to the other — from that time, forward, 
and forever. To this venerable individual, who has 
outlived almost all his contemporaries, and almost liv- 
ed out his century, the angel of his country still shews 
to him America — a mere speck in the west, when this 
action was fought, serving only to amuse the world 
with savage stories — outstripping the most sanguine 
anticipations of his youth — and becoming the attrac- 
tion — the admiration, and the envy of the world. — 
' Fortunate man, he has lived to see it ! Fortunate in- 
deed, he sees nothing to cloud the setting of his day ' 5 



59 



While we felicitate ourselves on the faculty of self- 
government, and on the power, which the country pos- 
sesses to do justice to its benefactors, let the country 
likewise be just to itself. There is no power, to 
which a people is not competent, that is really requisite 
for its welfare. There is at least no faculty, which a 
nation does not possess, to promote its own prosperity, 
consistent with the principles of public law and eternal 
justice. There is no form, which so fully developes the 
dignity of human nature, as the democratic. There is 
no system, which so soon brings home its sanctions ; — 
none, which requires so complete a prostration of all 
partial objects — so entire a devotion to its radical 
principles — in order to bring out its essential perfec- 
tions. 

In the posture, that we are placed, as the mother re- 
public — in the circumstances, under which we are 
placed, in the present condition of mankind — in the 
circumstances, under which we are placed in relation 
to ourselves, a duty is demanded of us — demanding 
all our efforts to accomplish ; and which can only be 
discharged by the most rigid and faithful regard to the 
fundamental principles of our association. — Be it ours 
then to send a searching spirit into these circumstanc- 
es ; — and consult those lively oracles of nature, which 
afford us at the same time the most profound sugges- 
tions of political wisdom. We have great interests to 
be consulted — with which those of the world, as it 
now stands — and of generations to arise — are linked. 
We have connections with Europe, where we have 
long carried on an advantageous commerce ; send- 



60 



iog out our staples and principles, and importing their 
fabrics and letters. We have relations to all times ; 
and as we proceed to manipulate our own intellectual 
and economical products, we have an increasing char- 
acter to sustain — and a higher cast, not to be forfeited. 

We are all pursuing the same great ends : and in- 
tellect is darting its vivifying rays into every subject. 
We are commanded well and wisely to consider our 
own situation — to consider our condition, as its own 
greatest innovator — to keep a steady eye to the true 
ends of our political existence — and while we accom- 
pany antiquity to, extend the spirit of improvement 
also to the foot of, the very altar. We are to hold 
nothing as sacred, but the true interests of society, and 
those institutions, the usefulness of which has been 
established to human happiness, — or attested by the 
consecrating sanctions of religion ; — and resort to the 
sacred repository of religion itself, not for the dark 
and portentous arcana of state policy, but for those 
transcendant sanerions, which it supplies to establish 
those obligations, which form the basis of all order. — 
As it regards the rest, let the rule — and the only rule 
be — how to attain the highest possible good — and ob- 
viate the utmost avoidable evil. — Over the porch, by 
which we enter the temple of our national liberty — 
over the avenues, w hich lead to all its spacious apart- 
ments — over the ever open hall of legislation — as well 
as the adjacent chambers of jurisprudence, let the 
fearless inscription meet the eye — 

Be bold ! Be bold ! And every where, be bold ! 
Be vot too bold i 



61 



Let it become an important object to raise the tone 
of public sentiment ; and elevate the dignity of demo- 
cratic institutions ; improve the rule of social duty and 
exalt the scale of national excellence. Let us clear the 
great streams of national prosperity. Let no faculty 
be denied to the government, which is granted by the 
constitution ; — let it be left to be used w ith discretion, 
regulated by responsibility. Let it likewise be felt, 
that some inference arises in favour of a power, which 
is attested by an important public benefit. While it 
will not be forgotten, that in order to guard their own 
rights against infraction, the people have invested 
their public agents with only limited faculties to pro- 
mote the great ends of government, a conclusion, re- 
sulting from their long and universal approbation of 
an actual authority, should not be unregarded. — And 
again — if a great national concern, which has been 
generally provided for in our constitutional scheme, 
acquires a new importance in the progress of public 
economy — or a new region itself arise beneath the 
broad canopy of the union, with interests, for which it 
had no original opportunity to stipulate — are we at 
liberty to attribute a prophetic spirit to those general 
provisions, which respect the public welfare, and to 
regard the system itself, as expanding with the exi- 
gencies of the union ? Shall an austere rule rebuke 
the true spirit of patriotic policy — uncontrolled by a 
commanding obligation to supply any chasm, which 
was not contemplated in the constitution ? Shali 
we still « rock the grown man in the cradle of the 
infant ?' 



02 



There is the more reason for demanding this strict 
justice to ourselves, until a more ample measure shall 
be accorded to us by the almoners of the old world. 
We, Americans, are accused, of anticipation. We 
are reproached with our propensity to look forward. 
Be it so ! We have no occasion to look back — upon 
a history, stained with crimes. Nor are we reduced 
to resort to the future — to relieve the sterility of the 
past. We have no long measure of time, to make up 
in this manner ; — no long track of chronology to re- 
deem, from darkness, and from barbarism. No boast 
of heraldry can be borne against us by Norroy or Clar- 
encieux to signalize our defection from that etherial 
principle — whose brilliant orb, 

c Though bent on empty space — beams keen with honour !' 

We are not compelled to look to the past for con- 
solation from the present ; nor even confined to the 
whole field of the present, for the full scope of our 
national power and greatness. We have no occasion 
to resort, like Rienzi, to the ruins of Rome, to refresh 
our enthusiasm for the Republic. — Our Sweet Auburn 
is not visible in the deserted village ; but is spreading 
throughout the beautiful savannas of the boundless 
western wilderness. We are a fresh, and a free 
people. A crescent spans the brow of the country, 
in the eyes of the world ; — and a star glitters in the 
forehead of the nation ! — We rejoice, like a strong 
man to run a race. We rejoice, like the sun, going 
forth from his chambers ; — like the stream, descend- 
ing from these mountains, and measuring its track 
toward the ocean. 



63 



It was once the boast of Spain — after the conquests 
of Cortez and Pizarro — that the sun never set in her 
dominions. But there are heights in our northern — 
as well as lights in the southern, hemisphere— that 
were never seen in Europe. Among the new con- 
stellations, that are rising in that region, Liberty has 
begun to describe her celestial path in the original 
Empire of the Sun. The thrones and principalities 
of the old world shall perish. But these shall remain ! 

" We hear a voice, they cannot hear ! 
" We see a hand, they cannot see^ — " 

We follow — where it waves us on — in the humble, 
but enthusiastic hope, of a happy immortality for our 
illustrious benefactors ; — and of glory and felicity for 
the nation. 

We profess not to have arrived at maturity. To 
test the truth of our principles, we are obliged to go 
forward ; — to anticipate the progress of time, and the 
operation of their causes on futurity. — To test the 
truth of our principles, let us go forward ! Let us 
advance the space of a single century. When, if we 
are true to our principles, and those, that shall come 
after us, shall prove true to our examples, we shall 
have redeemed ourselves from the reproach, of living 
in, and for, posterity ! 

Let us be just then to our posterity, as well as to 
ourselves : — And if there be any intrinsic truth in these 
sentiments, let them derive some impressive interest 
from the occasion, which they cannot owe to their 
utterance — from regard to that responsibility, to which 
we shall not be sensible — when we shall be as silent, 



64 



as those, whose pulses throbbed at least as high as ours 
on this eventful epoch. — The moon, whose fading rays 
lighted the footsteps of that retiring fragment from 
this interesting scene, on that occasion, was called, 
by the natives of this continent, the moon of flowers. 
The flower, which shuts this evening — blows but 
once a century. — In the room of going back then—* 
let us now advance along that interval. Let us 
array before us — or rather array ourselves before — 
those, who shall come after us. — Come then, ye future 
ages of America ! — spirits, that are yet to be ; — those, 
that may occupy this spot, when this period returns ! 
Sit in judgment on the present generation — call us to 
account for our privileges ; and demand of us to 
discharge our trust! And let the voice of those, 
that have gone before us, and led the forlorn hope of 
our national existence, rise in our ears and press on 
our hearts. — By the blood shed for our deliverance — 
by the tears, with which our freedom was baptized 
— by the agony of patriotism in the strife for indepen- 
dence — by the glorious and imperishable cause, in 
which we are all concerned — be just to yourselves — be 
true to your principles — be faithful to posterity ! 



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